


You already know how this will end.

by Velveth



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velveth/pseuds/Velveth
Summary: Carol inspired. - But naughtier.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Harge Aird, Carol Aird/Therese Belivet, Therese Belivet/Genevieve Cantrell
Comments: 30
Kudos: 137





	1. L'appel du vide

Therese gazed through her camera lens intently, trying to capture the shot as she saw it in her minds eye. The sun was just setting. The golden hour was upon them with that mythical gleam that enveloped the entire scene and its actors in a warm embrace. A moment in time where everything had a softer edge - with boundaries erased and colours enhanced - every shot a little vignette full of endless possibilities, a chance at a different story. 

Therese moved swiftly through the crowd, seeing everyone and everything with fresh eyes - a woman's hand resting gently on a man's chest drawing circles around the buttons of his shirt, woman's lips pressed softly against another woman's ear whispering sweet nothings, swaying bodies moving to the music speaking their own language. Blurry of faces that are smiling, hands that are reaching, lips that are searching and bodies that are wanting. Everyone moving in slow motion - shot after shot of couples basking in the dying light, waiting for the night. Enough to make you dizzy with anticipation.

When she finally lowered her camera it was already dark, too dark to see clearly. The venue was transformed in the glow of the hundreds of candles that were lit throughout, casting another kind of light, setting another kind of tone. One that Therese will not be photographing just yet. She took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time since she got here, relieved that most of her work was done. She set down her camera and walked towards the bar at the edge of the garden. A shining beacon of crystal, glass and mirrors containing bottle after bottle of the most expensive alcohol she will ever likely have the pleasure to taste. And Therese wasn't going to miss the chance. Some liquid courage will do her good, especially considering the enigmatic final assignment that awaited her later in the evening. She sat at the corner of the bar, observing the festivities that were slowly unfolding before her.

The venue they were in was actually a rather remarkable villa located outside one of the most famous cities in the world, although it seemed as if it existed in a universe of its own. The garden of the villa appeared to have been geometrically designed, however it was overflowing with life in a way that the original order was almost completely lost. It was a classical Italian garden filled with greenery and charm, emanating a scent of Tuscany at dusk. In the middle of it there was a clearing transformed into a dance floor surrounded by sleek black tables interspersed amid the greenery and two bars that were flanking the stairs which led onto the terrace of the villa, where the band played. 

The guests were moving languidly to the music - well aware of the spark of their jewellery and the sway of their finery - enjoying the freedom and anonymity that the masks they were wearing granted them. The villa was both their playground and battlefield, a safe haven to explore their desires and fight their fears. And the garden, with its wild containment, mirrored that beautifully. Tall cypress trees created a semi-circular border between the inner wasteland of the villa and the outer world. It was isolating and all-encompassing all at once - a world created from nothing and serving no one, except maybe its owners, the notorious Airds.

Therese knew little about the couple. It was their parties that were becoming rather infamous in certain social circles that Therese only recently got a glimpse into. And it was proving to be quite the education. It wasn't until she started working for the Agency that Therese discovered there was an entire class of people she never knew or heard about. The incredibly wealthy and influential who preferred to stay out of the limelight and pull the strings out of the shadows. Working hard and playing even harder, tucked away safely from the public eye. An entire microcosmos filled with debauchery, extravagance and indulgence, constant partying and dulling or heightening of the senses. A life that revolved around a constant hunger that never really went away, that was never fully sated, only just briefly forgotten at events like this one. It was something that frightened Therese, this slow revelation that you could have everything you ever wanted and still be eternally dissatisfied. But it also intrigued her, unleashing something new inside of her, making her question her own hidden desires and ignored longings. 

She was stirred from her reverie by a tap on the shoulder. She turned to see Mr. Aird's assistant Genevieve looking at her intently. She was wearing a black lace mask that covered the upper part of her face, accentuating it rather than concealing it. Her bright green eyes shining behind it. 

"Excuse me Miss Belivet, they are ready for you." Genevieve said in a low, husky voice looking at Therese expectantly. "If you would like to follow me, I'll take you through." 

Therese smiled at the composed woman before her, wondering for a brief moment if this was just her work facade or was she always this cool. She remembered her own PA days and felt sympathy for her. Her own work facade looked a lot like this one, it hid a stressed, over-worked woman beneath. Working as an assistant was never easy, especially if your boss was someone as powerful as Harge Aird was rumoured to be. Or as difficult. 

"Of course. Just let me finish my drink. And please call me Therese." She answered regarding Genevieve more closely. "Why don't you join me?" 

The question made the pretty black-haired woman look directly at Therese, surprise registering briefly on her face. "Just for a second. I promise I won't tell." added Therese with a wink. 

Genevieve shifted on her feet, casting a quick glance across her shoulder. She looked back at Therese with a playful gleam in her eyes that confirmed her suspicions. The interior seemed a little less cool after all. 

"Maybe a really quick one." Genevieve answered, moving to sit next to Therese, her long black dress brushing softly against Therese's knees. 

Once seated she turned graciously to wave the bartender over. "Four shots of Patrón please." 

Therese's smile grew wider. "Quick and painful." 

Genevieve looked at her with a captivating smirk. "You will be thanking me soon enough. Look at it as a blissful mist that will descend onto this entire evening and its proceedings." 

Therese laughed, but shifted a bit uncomfortably in her seat. There was something about Genevieve's comment that made her feel nervous. 

She reached for the small wooden platter with the salt and lemon slices that the bartender placed in front of them. She licked the small expanse of skin between her thumb and index finger and placed the salt on it, taking the lemon with the same thumb and finger. She reached for the shot with her other hand, looking towards Genevieve for a toast, but was met with the same intent look that was on her face when she first approached her. Only this time Genevieve didn't look away as quickly, somewhat frozen. It made Therese shudder somewhere deep inside. 

She raised her glass slightly. "To the blissful mist." 

That seemed to rouse Genevieve from her trance and she reached for her shot, a small blush creeping up her neck. "To the mist." She responded in a low voice, downing the shot and regaining her composure quickly. 

Therese followed, feeling the familiar burn spread from her throat all the way down to her stomach, warming her deliciously. As she set the glass back on the bar she noticed a small engraving on its bottom: HA. 

"He loves to mark his things. It's done very subtly, but you can always tell what belongs to him. Or what he believes belongs to him." Genevieve said, answering her question before Therese had the chance to ask it. 

There was an edge to Genevieve's voice as she said it and Therese could see a troubled look in her eyes. She has seen that look before. There where a few times she even recognised it in her own mirror. 

She reached forward and placed her hand on Genevieve's forearm, squeezing it gently. "You must admit it's funny how his initials spell HA. It's like everything he marks laughs back at him." 

Genevieve looked up with a small smile. "I guess he didn't really think that one through. He doesn't really do funny." 

"Well, you know what they say." Therese remarked as she picked her second shot, placing another one in front of Genevieve. "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." 

Genevieve finally laughed at that, the troubled look gone from her eyes, alcohol already coursing through her veins, lowering her inhibitions. She turned fully towards Therese and raised her glass. 

"Fuck 'em." she responded in that low timbre of hers that resonated through Therese unexpectedly.

They clinked glasses and downed their second shot quickly (and rather bravely). Therese could hear her blood starting to hum in her ears, a sure sign she was slowly reaching her limit. However, she didn't mind, it seemed like a limitless kind of night. 

"Have you met her yet?" asked Genevieve suddenly. 

"Met who?" responded Therese, still a bit distracted by the hum in her ears. 

"His wife. The woman you're photographing for tonight." 

"Oh... No. I haven't. To be honest, this entire evening is a bit of a mystery to me. I'm not really sure what my next shoot entails exactly." responded Therese honestly.

"You mean you don't know what you're photographing tonight?" asked Genevieve with a frown.

"Not really, no. The assignment is to take photos of the party and then do another photoshoot later. This is actually my first time covering an event like this one, so..." 

She looked to Genevieve as she said that, registering the devilish grin that started to spread on her face, making her pause and start again, a little more agitated.  
"Why? Do you know what the shoot will be?"

"Well... I have an idea. Although with her you can never really know. She tends to keep you guessing." Genevieve continued with a soft glint in her eyes. "You really have no idea who they are, do you?" 

Therese looked down a bit embarrassed. When she first started her job at the Agency a few months ago, she immediately noticed her contract having so many sections dealing with privacy clauses that she instantly decided to inquire as little as possible about her photoshoots. Not to mention the obligatory NDA's she had to sign before every single job. She simply didn't want to know anything about her clients beforehand, out of sheer terror that she might unwittingly reveal something to someone. 

She was seriously questioning that decision right now. 

Genevieve continued on, not really giving her a chance to respond, her tongue now completely untied by the second tequila shot. "That may be for the better actually. The only thing you should understand about these parties is that they are a contest of sorts. The more shocking the better. And although everybody thinks it's the Airds proving their dominance over their friends and rivals, it's actually them proving dominance over one another. So whatever you do, do not get lured into it."

Her statement was met with an incredulous look from Therese, who for a moment was snapped out of her own embarrassment into wondering what the hell has she gotten herself into. 

"Why would I get lured into it?" she asked tentatively.

Genevieve paused, an uncertain look in her eyes, weighing whether she revealed too much already. However, Patrón nudged her a little bit further. 

"Just. Be careful. As I said, with her you can never know." 

Therese felt a shiver run straight through her, settling deep in her stomach.

Genevieve reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly, trying for a more light-hearted tone. "Sorry, I'm just rambling over here, freaking you out for no reason. Just go in, do your job and get out. I'm sure you'll be fine." She finished with a sweet, albeit not so credulous, smile. 

"Gee thanks, it doesn't sound at all like your feeding me to the lions right now." Therese remarked sarcastically, although a small smile played on her lips. 

Genevieve laughed softly, waving the bartender over once again. "One more before heading to the den?"


	2. La petite mort

As soon as she stood up, Therese knew she was in trouble. The mist has indeed descended, enveloping her and the entire party in a haze of lights and sounds, with a deep, low bass reverberating through the entire space. Or just through her? Therese couldn't tell for sure. But she felt it. And it was sweet. 

She was moving through the dance floor with Genevieve, the taller woman's hand firmly clasped around her wrist. For a moment she envisioned Genevieve letting her go and allowing her to disappear into the heated crowd. She could see herself entangled with the moving bodies so vividly - skin prickling with sweat, muscles burning with exertion, mind beaming with exaltation - never emerging complete again. She would just be the motion and the bass echoing inside her ribcage, waiting for release. But they were still walking and Genevieve seemed like she would never let her go, so Therese left the yearning behind.

Genevieve paused at the bottom of the stairs and leaned over to whisper in her ear, her long dark hair tickling Therese's face and neck. "Are you alright? You seem a bit dazed." 

Therese could sense the savory perfume she was wearing, it had notes of jasmine and honey in it, making her hunger for something sweet. She took a small step back and took a deep breath, willing everything to come back into sharper focus. The mist was dragging her in too deep. 

She looked back up towards Genevieve's amused face with a small shake of the head. "Yes. I'm sorry. That third shot went straight to my head. I'll be fine in a minute, just don't let me lose you." 

Genevieve's smile softened. She reached for her hand again. "Never." She said playfully, tugging her by the hand towards the villa. 

The villa itself was a wonder of modern architecture, constructed out of sleek reflective surfaces and glass, reminiscent of a lighthouse amid the dark seas of the previously overbearing architectural styles. It was built to impress and in a way possess the imagination of its visitors. It was easy to see the life you dreamed of reflected back to you in its shining facade. So close in reach, yet so far. 

The terrace where the band previously played, and now a DJ reigned, led directly to the villa's ground floor, a space that was completely open to the outer world with a row of large glass sliding doors playing as the only imaginary barrier. Once inside, it was more open spaces, minimalistic furniture and bold artistic choices - a 21st century dollhouse ready to act out a life in. 

As soon as she stepped in, Therese felt overwhelmed. Even though the house seemed as it didn't offer enough stimuli, it was still magnificent in its quiet sort of overbearance and the select artwork it displayed. "Someone has exquisite taste" she mused to herself observing a large black and white photography print for which she was sure was an Imogen Cunningham piece. It depicted a close-up of a young freckled woman laying on the bed with her bright hair splayed around her. She was photographed from above and seemed like she was sleeping, her hair the only thing awake about her. It was electrifying in its stillness. 

A stillness that the villa currently lacked. The inside was just as booming with restless bodies as the outside was, the low bass still reaching them through the built-in speakers dispersed throughout. The atmosphere was getting more heated by the second, the distance between the dancing, talking or just plain gawking partners dispersing into nothingness. It seemed especially evident that some guests would soon replace the open space of the villa for a more private showroom upstairs, where the masks could come off. At least the ones covering their faces.

Therese smiled to herself and kept walking, letting herself be guided by Genevieve. They reached the foyer of the villa, a space filled with countless smaller and larger mirrors. Therese paused briefly in front of one of them, trying to find herself in its reflection. 

She was happy to see that her make up survived so far, the black eyeliner still giving her that old hollywood charm she hoped for when applying it earlier this afternoon. It went well with the plum lipstick she preferred for events like this one, although most of it was adorning the shot glasses right now. Something she was regretting more and more as she tried to focus on reapplying it. Her hair was made up in a low bun tied together with a black ribbon that matched her velvet suit perfectly. Although a curious choice for her, she found the suit allowed her to move freely and also to blend in seamlessly. If only the same could be said for the black stilettos she had on. 

Satisfied with her general appearance she turned back towards Genevieve who was clicking away furiously on her phone. "I'm sorry something came up. Let me just finish this e-mail." Genevieve said, unable to lift her eyes from the screen. 

"No worries." Therese replied, wandering slowly around the vast foyer, enjoying the moment of calm that miraculously descended upon it. 

She walked over to the round stone table that dominated the middle of the room. It had an incredible bronze sculpture mounted upon it. The sculpture was of an abstract shape but reminiscent of a woman's figure, it had a mirror-like surface that when struck with light gave an illusion of radiating light, making it seem like something fragile yet monumental. Therese felt compelled to touch it, running her hand over its smooth surface.

"That's actually one of her pieces." Genevieve remarked, eyes finally off the screen and focused on Therese fully. She seemed like she was observing her for some time now, a soft smile adorning her lips. 

Therese retracted her hand quickly, Genevieve's voice catching her by surprise. She looked at Genevieve inquiringly. "You mean Mrs. Aird? She's an artist?"

Genevieve nodded, moving closer towards Therese. "She was. When she was younger. Before quitting and becoming ..." Genevieve paused, her hands motioning towards the entirety of the villa. "This."

"That's seems like quite a leap." Therese replied, a bit confused.

"Maybe. Or maybe she just exchanged one medium for another." Genevieve said with a smirk before looking at her phone once more. "Okay, we should definitely get upstairs. Ready?"

Therese sneaked another quick look at the sculpture, it's surface echoing her own image back to her, casting it in a bronze glow. She preferred it to the mirror. "Ready."

The energy of the upstairs floor was much more chaotic than Therese could have anticipated. The evening seemed to be at its nefarious height. Even as they were ascending the stairs, Therese could feel the floors and walls vibrating from the loudness of the music blasting from the upstairs speakers. It was like someone was trying to drown in the sound. 

She moved next to Genevieve quickly, hoping not to lose her in the mayhem. They walked through the large lounge area quickly, bypassing guests in various states of disarray, some of them already too far gone to do anything except adhere to their most basic urges. Moving alone or together, lying on the floor or flying through space they all seemed desperate to find a rhythm that best suited their inner turmoil. 

In the middle of it all there were the waiters, moving through the chaos like swans on a lake, carrying platters of champagne, caviar and cocaine - the famed Roman 300 - like it was just another day at the office. Therese was in awe of their grace. It was poetically out of place in a desperate wilderness like this one. She itched for her camera, hoping to capture the scene later on, aware that she might never see it again. 

She followed Genevieve through various sets of corridors and rooms, some closed and some open, each exhibiting another form of play. Some of them she wished she could photograph as well. Most of them she did not. 

And then, just when Therese thought she had just as much of enticement as she could manage without bursting, Genevieve stopped walking, halting before a large reeded glass door. She looked back at Therese one more time, flashing her signature grin, before pushing open the door. "Welcome to the inner sanctum Miss Belivet." 

And just like that, they entered the den. 

The "lion's den" was actually a library and given the circumstances the fact made Therese want to laugh out loud. It was a huge circular room that led straight to the balcony overlooking the main garden. Magnificent and probably intimidating when empty with its high ceilings, sharp lines and cold finishes, right now it was bursting with activity and excitement. And despite being decorated in the same minimalistic style as the rest of the house, it seemed to display the most of the Aird's character - the shelves covering the walls containing invaluable pieces of art and memorabilia, small tokens of a life spent in pursuit of excellence and beauty. 

That said, the atmosphere inside the room was much the same as the rest of the house - barely contained chaos. However, in here it seemed to be reigned over by the man sitting in the middle of the room, holding court. 

Harge Aird. HA himself. 

He was lounging in one of the high chairs, a picture of composure and charm, apparently just in the middle of telling a story to a posse of admirers. Dressed in a tuxedo, with a golden Arlecchino mask pushed above his face, he seemed like a man far beyond hiding from anyone or anything. Self assured to a fault.

Next to him, or better yet on top of him, was seated a beautiful woman with long wavy blonde hair that fell just above her waist. She was dressed in a deep green dress with an open back that Harge caressed carelessly while talking. Therese had a feeling that the green of her dress matched her eyes, although it was difficult to tell behind the gold Colombina mask that covered the upper part of her face. She seemed a bit uncomfortable, not really paying attention to the man she was perched upon, her hands restlessly playing with the long golden necklace around her neck - like some kind of an expensive noose. She seemed out of place, more of a prop on his knee than partner. That saddened Therese, she was beginning to picture Mrs. Aird quite differently than this. 

"Here's your camera." Genevieve said, gesturing to the young man standing behind them holding Therese's equipment. "You can take a few shots in here, I'm sure Mrs. Aird would like them for her archives. But do it subtly please, some of these people can get paranoid this late in the evening.". 

Therese could see her point, the scene was positively Gatsbyesque. In the wildest way possible. She nodded slowly, reaching for her camera, hands itching to start shooting away. 

As she was adjusting the settings she asked Genevieve. "Should I do a few of the Airds as well?" 

"Well, he doesn't like to get his photo taken, extremely private about it actually, so a definite no." Genevieve replied in a hushed voice. "And I'll have to see what exactly Mrs. Aird has planned for later. She doesn't seem to be here at the moment." Genevieve replied looking around them. 

Therese looked up quickly, casting a curious glance at the couple lounging languidly in the middle of the room. "What do you mean? Isn't that her just there?" she asked pointing subtly in the direction of the woman in green. 

Genevieve followed Therese's line of sight, a low snicker escaping her as soon as she saw towards who Therese was pointing. "Oh God no. That's just one of her understudies." she remarked sarcastically. 

"Excuse me?" Therese answered getting more confused by the second. 

"Never mind. " Genevieve replied, remembering herself. "Let me check with them and I'll get back to you. Meet me at the balcony when you finish in here."

Therese watched her walk away, moving gracefully through the boisterous crowd. She shrugged to herself and raised her camera, suddenly remembering why she was here in the first place. She looked through her camera lens - a woman laying draped over a man giving him sips of her champagne, a man kissing the neck of his lover subtly unbuttoning his shirt, three women dancing on the piano trying not to slip on the vodka flowing from their drinks, a man inhaling white powder of his partners thigh - shot after shot of the numbing decadence. 

Therese worked her way slowly through the room, catching moments she found oddly appealing despite their unorthodox origin. Once satisfied she moved to the balcony, hoping to catch a few more shots there before joining Genevieve. She walked to the railing, taking shots of the party still unfolding underneath. The scene before her making her hands twitch with excitement - she was finally in her element. 

Or she thought so.

As she was turning back towards the balcony, camera still poised in front of her eyes, searching for the perfect shot, she froze. 

Next to Genevieve, talking to her in hushed tones, there appeared to stand a woman covered in gold. Therese lowered her camera slowly, half dreading half hoping that what she was seeing was some elaborate figment of her imagination fueled by the lack of sleep and too much alcohol. 

It wasn't.

When she looked over once again, the woman was still there, smiling at something Genevieve said. Vivid and unreal.

Therese raised her camera once again, hoping to catch her before she disappeared. It was of no use. She was lost in the golden mirage before her, unable to press the shutter button. She stood there suspended between reality and daydream. 

The woman looked up. Her gaze fixed on Therese immediately. 

And suddenly Therese didn't hesitate anymore. She took the shot.


	3. Une liaison

The woman was still looking at Therese, even as she lowered the camera. A small tilt of her head indicating an interest similar to that of a panther observing its prey. A movement easily missed if you weren't paying close enough attention. 

But Therese was all attention. And it was entirely directed at the woman in gold.

The woman was wearing a long form-fitting sleeveless dress made out of a golden powdery material that accentuated her pale skin exquisitely. The dress had darker and lighter golden accents that followed the shape of the body until dispersing into a net of gold and powder just under the hips - giving it an illusion of inner radiance and movement. The dress was accompanied by an intricate golden mask that seemed to have been made out of metal and woven into her blonde wavy hair. It was simple in its elegance and fit the woman's face perfectly, at the same time shielding and exposing her unusual features. Especially her eyes. Grey orbs that were burning a hole in Therese's mind. So much so, that she couldn't quite endure their glare.

She turned back towards the railing of the balcony, clutching it for support. She looked back towards the garden, trying to find a safe place where she could rest her eyes. The exertion of the evening was finally catching up to her and Therese could feel her body slowly starting to hum from it. Her eyes chose the scene next to the pool - two women slow dancing in the moonlight, unbothered by the pandemonium around them. The contrast amused Therese, giving her a chance to step away from the inner coil that she could not and would not untangle right now. Although she felt it tightening.

"Hello." A low, melodic voice said somewhere just behind Therese.

She stiffened briefly. Then relaxed, softening even. Why resist?

"Hi." she replied as she turned, facing the woman she had just photographed. The burden of the woman's full attention somewhat heavy on her body, making her shift uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about the photograph, I didn't mean to invade your privacy." she said trying to fix the lock of hair that fell out of place - sympathising with its plight.

The woman stood before Therese observing her with a small smile. "It's alright. After all, that's what I hired you for." she answered after a brief pause, moving towards the railing. She let her gaze wander the garden beneath them, overripe with exuberance. "How are you finding the party?"

Therese moved beside her. The realisation of who she was talking to hitting her all at once, creating a small bubble of surprise and satisfaction inside her. For another brief moment she let her eyes linger on the couple - still dancing to their personal rhythm, perfectly balanced - before settling back on the dance floor. "Overwhelming... And unreal. But oddly attractive." she managed with a smile. 

Mrs. Aird let out a low laugh. "I'm glad. I would hate it if my parties were unattractive." she said, her face turning towards Therese. "Although it does depend on what your view is."

Therese looked up, her gaze settling once more on the grey eyes observing her - a mischievous glint embedded somewhere deep inside. "I certainly haven't seen anything like it." 

"You're lucky." the woman remarked after a brief pause, her face turning back towards the party, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "I think I've seen too much."

Therese smirked to herself, pushing the conversation a little further. "The masks are a nice touch. Very Eyes Wide Shut." she stated innocently, all of a sudden fascinated by the bustle next to one of the bars.

Mrs. Aird turned her head towards Therese, her eyes narrowing. "How perceptive of you." she said in that deep voice of hers, dripping with sarcasm. "Even though we are missing a blind-folded pianist and the women are wearing so much clothing that it is positively victorian in here." she finished with a smirk, her eyes changing their hue into something more blue.

Therese laughed, her eyes drawn to the woman's smile. "Don't forget the weird chanting priest." she quipped. "He would be a hit on the dance floor."

The woman couldn't help but grin at that. "Thank you for your input, Miss Belivet. I will take it into consideration." she replied drily, gesturing towards the dance floor with the tilt of her head. "Although I'm not sure they would notice."

Therese looked back at the burning dance floor - where oblivion reigned - and couldn't help but agree. "Is it always like this?" she ventured.

"Like what?" Mrs. Aird replied with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Like it's the end of the world tomorrow."

"Well... Isn't it?" she answered with a wave of the hand.

"I hope not." Therese answered earnestly, stilling them in the moment, her focus unwavering.

The woman paused and turned towards Therese fully, assessing her more closely, her smile fading. She reached her hand and tucked the roaming lock of hair back in its place - the one Therese was too nervous to secure properly. However, she did it without lingering, her hand withdrawn as quickly as it reached for Therese, making her uncertain if it really happened or if she just imagined it. She wanted to reach back to make sure. But she didn't. Not yet.

"Thank you." she said softly, her eyes focused on the golden mask. _Was she very different without it?_ "And please call me Therese."

"Therese." Mrs. Aird echoed in her low timbre, tickling Therese's senses, pulling her towards its source. 

"Excuse me, Mrs. Aird?" Genevieve interrupted, appearing as if from nowhere, an apologetic lilt lacing her voice.

"Yes?" she answered, her eyes never leaving Therese's face.

Genevieve leaned in closer, whispering something in her ear. The woman's expression changed, her eyes dropping to the floor. She took in a deep breath, straightening her back and lifting her head higher, as if bracing herself for something. Even Therese could see the armour falling back into place. When she looked back up, the grey returned, her eyes stormy clouds at sea.

"You'll have to excuse me." she said, barely looking at Therese before heading off in the direction of the library.

Therese watched her go, until gold disappeared into the darkness.

#  *** 

Harge looked up, his eyes sweeping the room, searching for her. It was another chaotic Saturday unfolding before him, one of perhaps too many - seductive, but unrelenting. Making him wonder how did they stray this far. He couldn't even remember which of the two of them raised the bar this high and why they continued to do so, without mercy. 

He finally caught sight of her, entering the room through the balcony door, still the most beautiful woman in the room. Any room. It almost made him miss her. It was easy to do so when she was just out of reach, the space separating them granting him options. Unrealistic ones, but still there, giving him comfort. 

He shifted, ready to join her, releasing the pretty creature sat upon him with a soft kiss to the shoulder. She moved reluctantly, probably hoping he didn't catch the disappointment in her eyes. But he knew the look well, he saw it in the mirror often enough. When he dared to look. 

"If you'll excuse me, it's time for me to see some actual guests and not just you party crashers." he said, smiling one of his charming bastard smiles. "Let me just relieve you of this burden before I go." he continued, grabbing one of the champagne bottles and two glasses, putting them in his back pockets - a move perfected in his misspent youth. 

He reached her in ten long strides, just as she was untangling herself from some drunken conversation. As she turned she was all smiles - a remnant of her previous interaction. He didn't mind, he basked in it a little anyway. 

"You're in a good mood tonight." she remarked, catching the bemused look in his eyes. 

"How could I not be? With my beautiful wife standing beside me." he answered, reaching his hand and tugging her curls.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "How drunk are you?" she said, batting his hand away lightly, amusement evident in her voice.

"Not nearly enough." he said honestly. "So I brought reinforcement." he continued as he reached for the glasses in his back pockets, handing them to her.

"I sincerely hope you sit on these one day." she said, reaching for the glasses anyway.

Harge poured the champagne, raising his glass to the woman standing before him - his greatest failure. He downed it in one. 

She observed him closely - a frown obscuring her features for a fleeting moment - before raising her glass and following suit. He refilled their glasses and they started walking towards the hall, making their way to the foyer begrudgingly.

"I thought they weren't coming." she said as soon as they exited the library, side stepping a few people occupying the floor.

"They weren't supposed to, but apparently she insisted." he said, his voice smooth as velvet, with just a hint of bitterness coating it. "You really outdid yourself this time Carol."

She stopped walking, turning her face towards him swiftly, almost like flinching from some phantom pain. "I'm not having this discussion again. I'll handle it." she answered. "I am handling it."

"I hope so. For both our sakes." he answered, propelling her forward.

They descended the staircase, polishing off another glass before reaching the bottom. He rarely saw her nervous anymore, so it disturbed him to see her like this now. It could mean only one thing. She wasn't handling it.

His wife. So full of secrets.

They reached the foyer, turning towards the front door. They were greeted by two familiar faces, as familiar as they could be beneath their opulent masks. Carol stepped forward first, her arms outstretched. 

"Abby, how wonderful to see you."


	4. Une baignade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos. I see you and I really appreciate it. Hope the next chapters don't disappoint. Enjoy.

Abby stood there, a little stunned. She remained rooted at the spot as Carol made her way to her, enveloping her in a warm embrace, her perfume making her head swim as if dipped in moonlight. She wanted to be released, but leaned in anyway, years of practice getting the better of her. She glanced in Harge's direction, his eyes never leaving them, even as he made his way to greet her wife. It made Abby flinch. Perhaps because his eyes held pity in them, underneath so many other things. She moved to disentangle herself, willing Carol to finally release her. And she did, hesitantly. It was fascinating to Abby how such an elusive person as Carol could have such trouble letting go. It was also endearing. A dangerous combination.

She took a step back, observing Carol more closely, still surprised by such a warm welcome. Although judging by the mist covering her eyes, maybe she didn't really mean to grant it - maybe champagne Carol did. Abby knew that Carol well, as she did the other Carol's. Cocaine Carol, dance on the rooftop naked Carol, swim with the busboys at dawn Carol, sleep in the bathtub for two days straight Carol or sleep with anyone at all when lonely Carol. The latter proving to be more dangerous than the others. Unexpectedly and devastatingly so. At least for Abby. 

However, she couldn't dwell on it any longer, it was time to surpass it. With as much grace and dignity as she could muster, ignoring that both of these sentiments were hanging by a burning thread - with Carol holding the lighter. She turned towards Harge and V, who were immersed in some investment bankers of the world unite gossip. She smiled to herself, V was always glowing the brightest when talking business, such a fucking geek. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt you gossip girls, but I'm parched, could we head upstairs?" she said, dramatically clutching her throat for emphasis. 

"Why don't we have a drink at the bar in the garden?" V suggested. "Maybe we can see you ladies set it on fire again?" she continued with a smirk.

Abby shifted restlessly, her hand slipping from her throat to her chest. That fucking night. She couldn't muster a word, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. Finally, Carol came to her rescue.

"It only burned for like a minute, barely anybody noticed." she said, trying for a lighthearted tone, throwing a concerned glance in Abby's direction.

"Say that to the bartender whose sleeve caught the flames." Harge responded. "I just finished the payment on his new car, so he wouldn't sue." 

"Well, he shouldn't have reached his hand into the flames." Carol countered. 

"Absolutely, doesn't he know playing with fire is dangerous?" Abby added, finding her voice.

"He was trying to put out the train of your dress!" V exclaimed. "You and Carol wouldn't stop pouring gin all over the place, dancing on the bar like two mad women."

"Oh, right." Abby responded, half remembering. "I should probably buy him a car scent or something. You know, just as a thank you?" 

"Let's just go." Harge said with a chuckle. "If you're lucky he might be working tonight, so you can give him your heartfelt thanks in person."

Abby moved to join her wife, ready to head towards the garden, when she was suddenly stopped by a hand seizing her elbow.

"Why don't you go ahead?" Carol exclaimed with one of her more charming smiles, still holding Abby tightly. "Abby and I are going to freshen up a bit. We'll be there in a flash."

"Just don't drown in the bathtub." V responded, linking her arm to Harge's, smiling. "You will find us by the formerly burning bar." she added over her shoulder, she and Harge already halfway across the hall.

As soon as they were out of sight, Abby turned to Carol, yanking her arm from the iron grip. 

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, eyes flashing with anger. 

"I'm sorry, I just needed to talk to you. You haven't returned any of my calls." Carol responded, somewhat desperately. 

"There's really nothing more to say Carol." Abby said, taking a step back, her hands raised before her. "You've made your position perfectly clear and I've made mine." 

"Abby, please. We have to talk about it. I can't lose you over this." Carol pleaded. 

Just as she was about to reach for Abby again, the front door opened, a stream of people flowing in. Carol scoffed, grabbing Abby's hand quickly, tugging her towards the closest bathroom. Abby relented, surprised by the sheer force with which Carol pulled her. Although she probably shouldn't have been. Carol's gravity has been pulling her for years. It was just recently that she gave in.

They entered the bathroom. Or more accurately, Abby flew in, Carol releasing her only after the door was firmly shut behind them. She cursed under her breath, looking at Carol like she was insane. Carol just shrugged her shoulders and leaned on the door, seemingly exhausted yet still fired up, her eyes emanating an unnatural glow. It made Abby wonder what her cocktail for tonight was. This couldn't be just champagne. She turned and walked to the mirror, hoping to compose herself before this god awful conversation.

The bathroom was done entirely in black, with black walls and black marble accents. The back wall of the room was made of glass and overlooked the smaller garden just beyond. There was a walk in shower just before it, a bathtub in the middle, with a minimalistic golden chandelier above it, two sinks, also formed out of the same black marble, and full length mirrors positioned behind each one, illuminated from behind like some magical portals. Even the flowers on the vanities were black - lilies. They gave off a sickeningly sweet scent. One that Abby couldn't stand. It made her head swim.

She took off her mask with one steady movement, tossing it in the sink. The brief flight from the hall to this mausoleum of a bathroom left her somewhat flustered, her skin flushed red. However, she was at least comforted by the sight of her unmasked face, hoping it will prevent her from losing herself so easily again. 

"Okay. Talk." she finally said, turning towards Carol. 

Carol moved away from the door, progressing towards Abby slowly and carefully, as if approaching a wild thing that could bolt at any given moment. Her dress made a soft shushing sound with every step, glistening in the dark bathroom as if made of liquid gold. The sight hurt Abby's eyes, but she refused to look away. 

"Abby, please understand, it was never my intention to hurt you. It was a mistake. I was out of my mind with all the pills and the alcohol and Harge... I couldn't think straight." Carol said, her eyes turned down towards her hands, playing nervously with the rings on her fingers. "It was an impulse, a moment of... I don't even know what. Weakness, I guess. I'm sorry." she finished, finally looking up, a crestfallen look in her eyes. 

Abby just stood there and observed Carol during this weak, but hurtful tirade. With each new word her blood warmed, until reaching a boiling point by the end. She knew it would be like this, Carol was never good at owning up to her mistakes or even naming them. It made Abby want to scream. She settled for a small outburst instead.

"A mistake? A weakness?! Is that what that was to you?" Abby countered, unable to hold in her rage any longer. "Just another oblivious night? Another body to shield you from your fucked up life?!" she continued, her voice echoing in the marble space. 

She moved towards Carol, incapable of containing herself. "You knew how I felt about you! You knew! Even with V..." she paused, her voice cracking a little. "Even knowing full well V would hate me forever if she found out... I couldn't say no to you." she looked Carol straight in her eyes, her lips trembling. "I can never say no to you." 

Carol looked back at her stunned, tears pooling in her eyes. "Abby.. I.." she moved to touch Abby, unable to find the words.

"No! You don't get to do this anymore." Abby cried out. "Reach for me when you have nothing else to hold on to. Because, trust me Carol you have nothing. Only misery." she continued, her voice trembling. "And the weight of it is just too much. I don't want to bear it. No one would." she finished, enveloping herself in her arms, seeking comfort.

Carol winced, her face changing into a grimace of pain. She took a step back and sat at the edge of the bathtub, her shaking hand reaching back to undo her mask. She moved slowly, almost listlessly, untying the knots that held the mask braided in her hair. When she finally removed it, she held it in her hands, the gold catching a few stray tears. The scene made Abby's chest constrict. She went too far. She aimed for one of the main arteries and instead, in her rage, she injured the heart. 

"You're right." Carol said, after what seemed like an eternity, her voice flat. "I've used you and I've abused your trust. And it was all out of my own inability to cope with the mess I've made. That we've made." She paused, clutching the mask in her hands until her knuckles turned white.

"I hurt him. He hurts me back. And then I hurt everybody." she continued, her eyes turning towards the door that led back to the party. "Who lives like this? Why would anybody live like this?" she finished quietly, a crack spreading through her features, threatening to break her.

It was the sheer despair in her voice that made Abby give in. That and the fact that she had never seen Carol in this light, in this place, beyond tears, colourless and cold. She may have visited it a few times, but she never had to dwell in it. Not in a way that Carol did.

Abby shifted, her hands dropping to her sides, a frown of concern beginning to bloom on her face. For once, she was at a loss for words, unable to give Carol an answer or even follow her own previously tempestuous train of thought. She wished Carol would look at her. She wished she would yell. 

"Carol... I'm sorry." she began, taking a small step forward, unsure whether to reach for her or not. "I didn't mean to..." she tried to continue, but Carol stopped her.

She looked up, her bare face open and vulnerable - the mask finally off. Her eyes roamed Abby's face, landing on her lips, then dragging upwards. It seemed like she was searching for something. Something that Abby was beginning to realise she couldn't give her, even if she wanted to. 

And God knows she wanted to. 

But it was of no use. It had already changed. This thing between them. It was already gone. Abby just hadn't realised it.

"I need you, Abby. Even though I know it's not fair. Even though I know I fucked up." Carol said, looking at her." I still need you. As a friend. As a partner in crime. As a lifeline." she continued, a humourless laugh escaping her. "I don't deserve you, but I need you." 

Abby stood there, silent. She was tired. And oh so thirsty. She was feeling depleted, like all of the words have just upped and left her. She wanted to lie down and have a cigarette, step out of the drama for just a moment. She looked at Carol, her face a picture of vulnerability, waiting. But Abby wasn't ready. She moved to the bathtub, kicking off her shoes and stepping in. If she just relaxed for a minute maybe she could think clearer. She leaned back and sprawled her legs, the black marble enveloping her in its shade. She looked back up at Carol, still sitting at the edge, observing her.

"It wasn't just your mistake. Although I wish it were. I was a willing participant." she said, her hand tracing the white veins of the marble, restless. "Too willing. And I think that angers me more than anything. I need someone to blame."

She paused, fighting back despair. "So I blame you... and hate myself."

Carol shifted, kneeling next to where Abby's head was resting against the marble edge. "Please don't. We'll fix this. I promise you, I'll fix this." she said reaching for Abby's restless hand. "All of this. And everything will be alright again. Just... let me fix this." she finished as her voice cracked a little, a tear spilling from her eye.

Abby took in a deep breath, squeezing Carol's hand. She was unsure how to proceed, unsure of Carol and above all else unsure of herself. And yet, after all was said and done, she couldn't quite remember why she chose to wage this war and why she was so adamant at losing the woman before her. 

She took in another deep breath and let the tension dissipate from their bodies and the air around them. Maybe it was enough.

"I think I need a drink." she said after a long pause, collecting herself.

Carol nodded. She stood up and moved to the small screen built into the wall next to the mirrors, clicking in a few notes. When finished, she opened one of the drawers in the vanity, procuring a silver metal cigarette case with a matching lighter. There was a knock at the door and Carol went to open it, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers, murmuring a low thank you. As she made her way back to the bathtub, the goods threatening to spill from her overloaded hands, Abby had to contain her smile. The scene reminiscent of so many others like it, a lifetime of Carol and her antics, but also her kindness and her love. Maybe she was right. Maybe they can fix this.

Carol placed everything on the edge of the tub, handing Abby the cigarette case and the lighter. When satisfied with the line up, she looked back at Abby.

"May I join you?" she asked, uncertainty evident in her voice. 

Abby fumbled with the lighter, a cigarette already placed between her lips. She stilled and looked up. This was it. Decision time.

"Only if you finally pour me that drink I've been asking for ever since I stepped into this gin joint." she said, a small smile evident on her face, a first after a long time. "I might actually be the first person to die from dehydration in a fucking bathtub."

Carol beamed, her whole face lighting up. She kicked off her shoes and raised up her dress, practically leaping into the tub. She sat opposite Abby, her long legs dangling from the side, and poured them a drink. A big one. She handed one of the glasses to Abby and raised her own.

"Here's looking at you, kid." she toasted, a grin dominating her features. 

Abby chuckled and clinked their glasses, drinking heavily from her own. She settled back against the back of the bathtub, the restlessness abandoning her slowly, but surely. She took another drag from her cigarette, looking at Carol through narrowed eyes.

"What?" Carol asked, lighting a cigarette of her own, looking up at Abby with apprehension.

"What's up with the ensemble?" Abby asked, amusement dripping from her words. "I didn't get the Goldfinger memo. Is Pussy Galore attending?"

"Oh, shut up." Carol responded, her rich laughter filling up the space.

Abby had missed the sound.


	5. Paillettes d'or

When they emerged from the bathroom, half a bottle of whisky and a pack of cigarettes later, Abby felt refreshed. Or was it just drunk? She couldn't tell for sure, but she liked it, her thirst finally sated. She glanced at Carol who stood by her side leaning on her for support, a silly smile on her face, and she felt calm. Calmer than she has been in some time, the air between them a bit clearer, her view of Carol a little less obstructed by her frustration and false longing. It was still a long road ahead of them, but she had hope - in herself and, surprisingly, in Carol as well. And she missed V. She realised she had missed her this entire time.

They were moving through the crowd, swaying as they walked, Carol taking a moment or two to greet people who reached for her, attracted to her brightness. When she was like this, she was a magnet, attracting anybody who yearned to bask in the light of her careless indulgence, her burning voracity. The Airds were masters at it, taking everything that life had to offer and then demanding more. And getting more every time. It concerned Abby, this hunger that seemed to consume them, that seemed to eat Carol alive. She wished it would one day be sated. She wished something or someone would one day be enough. So Carol could finally rest. 

They paused. Carol turned towards Abby to tell her something and threw her off balance in such a way that she crashed into a passing waiter. He stumbled, releasing the grip on the tray he was holding above his head. A tray containing enough bottles and drinks to sustain an army. A stream of alcohol drenched everyone around him. Everyone except Abby, who was too close to get caught in the downpour. She recovered quickly, apologising profusely to the shocked waiter - praying he wasn't the same one she set on fire - and the wet crowd surrounding him. 

"When it rains it pours!" She exclaimed half heartedly. "Am I right?"

The joke was met with deafening silence, dying a quick but painful death. Abby looked back at Carol and shrugged, stepping over the wreckage with all the grace she could muster. Carol just stood there, dripping, amusement playing in her eyes.

"At least this time it wasn't fire." she quipped, reaching for the bottom of her dress, trying to wring it dry. "I better get changed before the fumes daze me." she continued with a smirk, turning back towards the foyer. "I'll meet you out there."

Abby nodded, a sigh escaping her lips. It really wasn't her fault. She reached for a cigarette, placing it between her lips. Just as she was about to light it - the lighter dangling precariously between her fingers - she caught sight of the unfortunate waiter scrambling away from her, a look of sheer panic on his face. 

"It was an accident! **He** reached **for me** , not the other way around!"

# ***

Therese was actually quite comfortable. More comfortable than she ever thought she could be in a setting like this one. As she was laying on the lounge swing in the corner of the terrace, rocking from one height to another with Genevieve beside her, she felt at ease. The fluster of her meeting with Mrs. Aird tucked in the back of her mind, pushed there by Genevieve's easy company and charming conversation. Not a small feat at first, but perhaps doable? Because, Therese was smitten, that much was undeniable. The moment the woman laid eyes on her she was lost, surrounded by the grey mist that descended upon the world, emanating from those eyes. Or was it the voice? Its timbre something Therese felt deep inside her body? It didn't matter. She may have lost herself for a moment, but Genevieve found her and she brought her back. If only to share a drink. 

Yes. She was quite snug here, sharing a cigarette with Genevieve, sipping champagne and talking about everything and nothing at all. The gold finally leaving her mind, although it cast a long shadow in its wake.

"I think I should go soon." Therese said, passing the cigarette back to Genevieve. "It's getting late and I have an appointment in the morning."

"You mean in a few hours?" Genevieve replied, releasing the smoke from her mouth into the night air.

"What time is it?!" Therese asked with a jump, making the swing move violently.

Genevieve glanced at her phone. "It's half past 3."

"Oh fuck." Therese replied, a small defeat evident in her voice. "There is no way I can make it back in time. Not to mention I missed the last train." 

She laid back with a huff, reaching for another sip from her ever flowing glass. The service here was immaculate - the Kennedy package all the way. Maybe she didn't have to go back so soon after all. What is one meeting when regarded through the bubbles in her champagne glass? Just air, really.

"Might as well stay and live on this swing with me." Genevieve remarked as her stamina gave in under the weight of the last hour and a half of swinging, drinking and moonbathing. 

"Wouldn't that be something?" Therese said with a smile, her face turned towards Genevieve. "We could just swing our way through life."

"At a party like this one, it would be strange if we didn't." Genevieve responded, looking at Therese with a glint in her eyes.

Therese turned to her side, her head propped on the palm of her hand, and observed Genevieve more closely. "Do you ever participate?" she asked out of the blue, saying the words before she lost the courage to do so.

Genevieve's eyebrows shot upwards, surprise registering on her face. "I did." she said, her eyes turning back towards the cigarette in her fingers - the one she was trying to flick casually, although it shook in her hand. "But I don't anymore." she finished, taking another long drag.

"Why not?" 

Genevieve hesitated a moment. Therese could see a struggle taking place inside her. "I couldn't approach it quite so carelessly as they do." she said after a while, turning back to Therese with a small shrug and a smile. 

Therese nodded, laying back, her gaze drawn to the moon. It was so close. 

"If I touched her, I think I couldn't either." she said, to herself more than to anybody else.

Genevieve took her hand and squeezed it. "I wouldn't recommend it."

# ***

Some time later, sea sick from the incessant rocking, Genevieve and Therese reentered the library. The mood changed. It had a rhythm more similar to a slow dance than the chaotic can-can that prevailed at the beginning of the evening and Therese appreciated the tonal shift. She still had her camera with her, so she took a few more shots - an entangled trio lying on the floor gazing at the ceiling, lost in a mood of their very own, a man and a woman playing the piano by lying on it and stroking the keys in a languid way, a man looking directly at her with a burning gaze - that evoked only emptiness. 

Those weren't the eyes that would haunt her. 

She lowered the camera, tired of its focus, and turned to Genevieve. "I should go." she said, fatigue evident in her voice.

Genevieve smiled a knowing smile. "Of course. Let me try and arrange a driver for you." she said, already clicking away on her phone. "Meet me downstairs in about 15?" she added, already being swept away by another group of demanding patrons. 

Therese watched her go with a small pang of regret.

She moved towards the door, it was like walking through molasses, the air so thick with the smoke and want of the evening, pulling her back just a little. She got to the corridor and walked the same path her and Genevieve took when she first got here. It allowed her to catch the endings of the scenes that only started to unfold when she first glimpsed inside the rooms that lined her way. They seemed awkward, as most endings did. 

She took another turn and then another, ending up in a part of the house she didn't recognise. She hesitated. There was a large double door before her, open wide, leading into a bedroom. The room was different from the rest of the house, at least from what Therese could discern, standing a few feet away. She ventured a little further, pausing in the doorway, and peered inside.

The room was heavy. Unlike the rest of the house which was light and sleek, it had an ambience that weighed it down. There were wooden floors, ceiling cornices and wall mouldings done in the french style with a modern twist, large double windows adorned with velvet curtains and a fireplace done in the same classical, yet modern style. It was also devoid of colour - even the paintings and photographs done in black and white - the bronze pieces, very much like the one Therese admired in the foyer, the only things giving of golden light, creating substance. And flowers - dark orchids - as many as 4 or 5 in each corner, giving off a scent of a greenhouse in May. 

In the back of the room, on either side of the bed there were doors that led to the dressing rooms and perhaps a bathroom beyond. The ones on the right were open a little, light coming from them and, now that Therese looked more closely, some movement as well. She moved to turn back towards the door, her feet seeming to have taken her further inside the room than she realised. But before she could even take a step, the dressing room door opened and a figure stepped out, suspending Therese mid-movement, like some amateur mime. 

"Therese!" Mrs. Aird exclaimed, bewilderment and something less easy to read evident on her face. "What an unexpected surprise." she said, stepping out of the dressing room, tying a loose silk robe around her lithe figure. 

Therese opened her mouth, then closed it again, unable to form a coherent thought. The woman has taken off her mask and her face was too much for Therese to look at. However, when she tried to redirect her eyes, she found there was no other place on the woman's body she can set them down. So, in the end, she opted for the floor.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Aird. I must have taken a wrong turn." she managed to say, her hand reaching for that errant strand of hair.

The woman moved closer, stoping right in front of her. Therese could tell by the bare feet that were now positioned right at the spot where Therese's eyes were burning a hole in the floor. A hand reached out and touched Therese right under her chin, pushing it upwards, forcing Therese to look up. The hand lingered until Therese made eye contact and maybe a few seconds longer, cooling and burning her at the same time. However, when it retreated, Therese missed its touch.

"Carol. Please call me Carol." the woman said smiling. "I think we're way past formalities." she added, motioning to her state of undress.

Therese returned the smile, her dimples showing. "Carol. Of course."

They lingered a moment longer, Therese overcome with déjà vu. Have they been here before? She shook her head, letting out a small laugh. The champagne really got to her.

Carol observed her with a sense of calm, but also interest, almost like she could see everything that was playing out in her head. When Therese shook her head, she even grinned.

"Since you're here, you might as well help me with something." she said, turning back towards the dressing room, beckoning Therese to follow her. "I have trouble deciding what to change into. Everything seems so.. boring." she finished as they entered the vast room, overflowing with clothes and accessories. 

Therese took a moment to take it all in, moving slowly behind Carol, having trouble registering anything except the moving form in silk.

"What about the robe?" she quipped, a small flame dancing in her eyes. "It doesn't strike me as boring."

Carol laughed and threw a glance back towards Therese. "Is that right?" she asked, stopping in the middle of the room. 

She glanced down at the shimmering pearl fabric and twirled mockingly as if to display it better. "It does have a certain flair to it." she added as she stilled once again, sitting down on the chaise lounge that occupied the centre of the room.

"Maybe for some other occasion." she said, looking at Therese with that same look of interest from before, as if seeing her in a new light. "But for now, maybe one of those would be better." she added, pointing towards the three dresses singled out on the clothes rack.

Therese turned towards the dresses, assessing them briefly. They were all done in different shades of gold, ranging from metallic and dust to sunset gold. All exquisite. And yet, yes, a little dull. 

"You see. Boring." Carol commented, reading into Therese's hesitation. "Maybe the robe isn't such a bad idea after all."

Therese turned to look at Carol. She was laying down on the chaise, one hand thrown casually above her head, the other positioned just over her waist playing with the string, one leg extended, the other bent at the knee - cool as ice. And looking at Therese, waiting.

Therese cleared her throat, for a moment forgetting what they were talking about. The dress, yes! Did she really want to put more clothes on Carol? She smiled to herself and shook her head once again. 

"It won't be boring once you put it on." she managed, turning back towards the rack and taking the metallic dress. "This one." she said, presenting the dress to Carol.

The woman had a slight change of expression, only a raise of the eyebrow signalling her surprise. And maybe delight? 

She hesitated just a moment and then as if she made up her mind about something, stood up, reaching for the dress that Therese held in her hands. 

"An excellent choice." she said, smiling her soft smile. "Why don't you have a seat in the bedroom and I'll join you in a minute."

Therese nodded, willing herself to move towards the door and away from Carol's body. She somehow succeeded, closing the door behind her. 

She wandered around the room, once again drawn to the bronze sculptures of various sizes that were dispersed around the room. One of them was especially poignant to her, its shape speaking to her in a way she couldn't quite comprehend. She reached for her camera and took a picture, wanting to have it, not really sure why. She touched the sculpture once again, tracing its form with her fingers, chasing her own reflection in its glossy finish. 

Once her curiosity was satisfied she ventured towards the fireplace, sitting on the sofa placed before it. Even though it was a warm night, the fire was burning, dancing before her eyes, specks of gold adorning her closing eyelids. Therese was exhausted, the furor of the evening caught up to her. The champagne bubbles inside her starting to sing her to sleep. She removed her camera and placed it on the coffee table, sinking in deeper into the wonderful plushness of the sofa. Maybe if she just rested her eyes for a second she could muster the strength to go downstairs and head home. 

Just a second, no more.


	6. Le matin après

The next time Therese opened her eyes, it was morning. Or more like midday, judging by the position of the sun that was blazing in the room through the opened curtains. Therese squinted, immediately regretting opening her eyes. Her head was pounding and she couldn't quite figure out where she was. She looked to her right, registering the glass of water and a small pill laying on the table. She reached for them instantly, sitting up a little to take them. After finishing the water she sighed, contentment coursing through her body. She laid back, getting ready to close her eyes again, maybe wake up somewhere familiar. As she was moving to her side to get more comfortable, a golden reflection caught her eye. She ignored it at first. But then it started playing in her mind. What a lovely shade, maybe I can take a swim in it later. The gold reflecting the sun. The gold reflecting the eyes. The grey and the gold..

She started with a jolt, opening her eyes fully. Last night. Carol. Her bedroom. She looked around her, last night returning to her bit by bit. She looked down her body, registering the blanket that was covering her and the fact that both her blazer and shoes were off. She didn't remember removing them. She looked to her left, her view obscured by the back of the sofa, however still aware of what, or better yet who, laid on the other side of the room. She turned and propped herself up on her elbow, trying to peer over the edge of the sofa, unsure of what she wanted or didn't want to see. What if she wasn't really there? Or worse yet, what if she was there but not alone? Or what if Therese simply imagined her? 

The last thought was a ridiculous one, and yet Therese, still in her sleep soaked state, couldn't help but notice a pang of loss while considering it. She sat upwards slowly, looking in the direction of the bed. And there it was, one sleeping body entangled in white sheets - alone - with one unruly blond head tucked in a sea of pillows. Therese let out a long breath, one she wasn't aware of holding in. She's real.

She laid back, unsure of her next move. It was painfully evident she won't be able to go back to sleep, now or maybe ever again. Should she sneak out? Should she wait for Carol to wake up? Should she get coffee? Oh god, yes, she should get coffee. Maybe with cream and two cubes of sugar? Okay, focus. Coffee can wait. 

Just as she was trying to get her thoughts back on track, she heard Carol move, the sheets shushing around her body. Therese stilled, panicking for just a moment before wincing because of the pain the panic caused her ailing head. She covered her eyes with her hand, massaging them into submission. Gotta stay focused. She prayed the pill would kick in soon. 

On the other side of the room, she heard Carol move again, she seemed to be getting out of bed, her bare feet padding softly across the room, moving away from Therese and into the dressing room and bathroom beyond. She waited, suspended in her inability to make up her mind about her next move. However, she didn't have to wait long. A few moments later, the door to the bedroom opened softly and an older woman walked in carrying a large silver tray. She looked at Therese and smiled, as if it was the most natural thing in the world that she was there. 

"Good morning, Miss." she said, as she was lowering the tray on the coffee table. "Coffee?"

Therese sat up, shot up actually, clutching her blanket for support. "G-good morning." she answered, the smell of coffee helping her overcome the strangeness of the situation. "Yes, please." 

The woman just nodded, her smile unwavering, and handed Therese the steaming cup. Therese accepted it with shaking hands, releasing her blanket reluctantly. She realised that without her blazer, she was left only in the black lace bustier she wore underneath. However, the woman didn't seem to mind, preparing another cup and setting it on the table to Therese's right. Then she removed the cloche, revealing all sorts of breakfast food and retreated a little. 

"Is there anything else you would like?" she asked.

Therese looked at the tray and then back to the woman. She was still dreaming. Was that it? She shook her head. 

"N-no, thank you very much." she said with what hoped was a smile, but could have been more of a grimace.

The woman nodded and turned, walking back to the door. 

"Oh, sorry, only one thing." Therese said, suddenly remembering. "What time is it?"

The woman paused, her hand on the door knob. "It's 1 pm, Miss." she said, smiling once again and exiting the room.

1 pm! She not only missed her morning appointment, but she was also missing her lunch with Richard. The lunch that started about an hour ago. She placed down her cup, reaching for the blazer thrown on the chair next to the sofa, trying to find her phone in its pockets. It was of no use. The phone was nowhere to be found, it seemed she has left it in her camera bag. 

"Fuck!" she exclaimed, resting her head in her hands.

"Good morning to you too." A low voice said, getting closer with each word.

Therese jumped up - God she was jumpy this morning - and turned towards its source. Carol was walking towards her, still barefoot, an open black robe thrown over her shoulders revealing a matching nightdress underneath. She was without make up, her hair a little mussed from sleep, standing like a halo around her head, and her eyes a bit clouded as if not completely awake - yet still gorgeous. And so much more real than Therese had seen her. She smiled involuntarily, her struggles forgotten.

"Good morning." she answered, moving aside as Carol approached to take the seat next to her.

"Sleep well?" Carol asked, reaching for her cup.

"Oh.. Y-yes. Very well." Therese answered. "I'm sorry for falling asleep and invading your space. You should have woken me up last night."

Carol looked at her over the rim of her cup, amusement playing in her eyes and something Therese still hadn't figured out yet. "Don't apologise. I hate sleeping alone." She answered after taking a tentative sip. "Although not often are my sleeping partners so far away." She finished, smiling.

It was the wrong moment to take her first blissful sip of coffee. Therese could see that now, but it was already too late. She choked, hoping she wouldn't drop the full cup as well. It was too late for that too. It broke on the wooden floor, leaving a trail of the dark liquid in its tragic wake. She only got to take the one sip. Shit!  


She looked up at Carol quickly, an apology already on her lips, although her body was still frozen mid-movement. 

Carol exhaled a small laugh and pressed a button placed at the side of the table. "I can't seem to go 12 hours without someone drenching me in beverages. Why do you think that is?" she asked in a low voice, looking down at her coffee covered legs.

The question spurred Therese into action, mortification finally reaching her hangover-addled brain. She moved towards Carol, intent on wiping her mistake from the woman's skin as quickly as possible, with her bare hands if necessary. However, just as she was to touch her, she paused, uncertain of the gesture. Genevieve's soft voice rang through her mind: I wouldn't recommend it. Her hand flinched and she pulled it back.

She looked up and caught Carol observing her, the lightness evident in her demeanour just a moment earlier gone, replaced by an intensity Therese hadn't seen before. She had seen Therese's reticence and her eyes flashed for a brief moment. If Therese didn't know better she could swear it was something similar to regret. She looked away, searching for the napkins on the table. She took one and handed it to Carol, her face already rearranged back into its usual cool mask.

Therese wanted to say something. She needed to say something. However, just as her mouth opened, unsure of the sound that will follow, the bedroom doors opened again.

"Anna, the cups seem to be extra slippery today. Would you please take care of it." Carol said as she wiped her legs, not bothering to look up. "I would recommend a shower." she added in a lower voice, addressing Therese. "I'm not sure there are enough napkins in the entire house for that."

Therese looked down at her dripping bodice and pants. Ruined. She winced. There's no way she can go home like this. 

"I'm sure you'll find everything you need in there. I'll have Anna prepare something for you to wear when you get out." Carol said, looking up at Therese with her usual detached amusement. 

"I'm sorry, Carol." Therese said, unsure of what she was apologising for exactly. Her clumsiness or her cowardice. Her hand twitched again. But this time wanting to reach. Itching to touch. What possessed it earlier? She clasped her other hand over the traitor, hoping to compose herself. Carol caught the movement and raised her eyebrow slightly, tilting her head to one side as in assessment.

"That's the third time you apologised to me since we met. A testament of your youth, I'm sure." Carol said. "Never apologise for things that are out of your control. Don't apologise for those that are either." she finished with a wink and stood up, moving away from Therese.

Therese followed suit, getting out of the coffee puddle and letting Anna take care of it. She felt sticky and rumpled, completely out of place standing in front of a woman who looked polished even when covered in coffee and some silk, in the morning after one of the craziest nights Therese has ever witnessed. She sighed. That shower sounded like heaven. 

"I'll have breakfast out on the terrace." Carol said, moving towards the terrace doors. "Join me when you're ready."

And just like that she was gone, enveloped by the sunshine that gleamed in the outside world. Therese almost forgot it existed. She moved towards the bathroom, murmuring another apology to Anna as she passed the woman. That was the last one, she promised to herself.

# ***

It was entirely too bright a day. Harge couldn't believe the audacity it had to shine so blazingly, rendering him almost blind with its light. He progressed towards the terrace, hoping to find some reprieve in its cool shade and even cooler mimosas served with what he hoped would be breakfast. Honestly, it was very difficult to tell which time of day it was - and it already seemed never ending. Why did he even get up? - That too eluded him.

As he stepped on the terrace he was surprised to find Carol already there. She wasn't usually this early a riser, late afternoon was more her game. She looked radiant as ever, damn the woman, in all their years of havoc there were only a handful of times he has seen her looking anything less than perfect. At the same time knowing she was anything but. 

"You're up early." he said, taking a seat opposite her. "I haven't seen you in the daylight for quite some time."

Carol smirked, not bothering to look up from the newspaper she held in her hands - so old fashioned. "Worried I'll burst into flames?" 

"As long as you contain it to your side of the table, I couldn't be bothered really." he remarked easily, nodding to Mark to serve them. "Have you had coffee?"

At that Carol looked up for a second, before returning her attention back to the paper. "In a way..." she said, her smirk widening. " I could use another."

Harge raised an eyebrow but said nothing, focusing on his own cup of sweet, dark relief. He sighed and sank further into the chair, observing Carol with a new found focus. He wondered if this was the moment to bring it up, if this was the morning he finally decided to burn it all down. Part of him still wondered if she would reach for water or for gasoline. He suspected the latter.

"Carol.." he began, seriousness evident in his tone, a sharp contrast to his usual laid-back manner. Sharp enough to make her look up instantly and furrow her brow, disquiet sneaking into those cool grey eyes. He hesitated, the moment building around them. "I think we should talk about.." 

He paused. A figure emerging from Carol's room caught his eye. A woman. Young and beautiful, making her way towards them and pausing as soon as she caught sight of him. A wolfish grin spread on his face. It was the photographer Carol had insisted on hiring. What perfect timing. He could have laughed out loud, if he didn't feel like he would throw up from the effort. 

He looked back at Carol - who must have seen the change in his features - her face now covered entirely by the newspaper. He narrowed his eyes. Coward. When he looked back up, it seemed that the woman had managed to unpause herself, walking once again - if somewhat more slowly - towards them. He rose to his feet and put on his most charming smile. This should be interesting.


End file.
